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I think it was heavy on my mind that the **different** kind of person you become in your big city bubble is pretty indistinguishable from the way your hometown remembers you. I may have thought that was a bad thing when I wrote this. Aimee's anxiety is the searching, restless kind, the kind that makes us think moving towns or getting a haircut or ending a relationship will bring us closer to some truth. She sort of recognizes the futility in it, but still seems to want that alternative truth, the one that hasn't existed in her all this time.